


And With My Hand I Wrote A Poem

by livtontea



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:40:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea
Summary: don't even bother looking at these I just needed somewhere to dump my poems if I'm being honest





	1. Shower

**Author's Note:**

> “Hope” is the thing with feathers  
> That perches in the soul  
> And sings the tune without the words  
> And never stops at all
> 
> -Emily Dickinson, " 'Hope' is the Thing with Feathers"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life has been the poem I would have writ  
> But I could not both live and utter it.
> 
> -Henry David Thoreau, “My Life Has Been the Poem I Would Have Writ”

Water drips down my skin  
Washing away all of my wrongdoings  
Or so it seems

The shower water is cold  
I do not bother to turn the knob  
And allow the inner workings of my home to make it warmer  
Why waste valuable electricity  
When I am just fine like this?

The water flows  
Washing over me  
I am in a cocoon of water  
And I cannot see  
Because the water is dripping into my eyes

I panic  
If I do not stop now, the water could run out  
The showerhead will croak as the last of the icy water drips out onto the tiled floor  
And I will be left alone in the cold air  
With rivulets of cold water dripping down my back

It is best to end it now.

I reach over and twist the nozzle  
But the water grows hotter  
No  
I've turned it the wrong way  
I rapidly jerk the knob the other direction  
And let out a sigh of relief when the water slows to an end

I am left alone in the cold air  
With still-warm water dripping from my body  
Onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
> Admit impediments. Love is not love  
> Which alters when it alteration finds,  
> Or bends with the remover to remove.  
> O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
> That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
> It is the star to every wand'ring bark,  
> Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
> Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
> Within his bending sickle's compass come;  
> Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
> But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
> If this be error and upon me prov'd,  
> I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
> 
> -William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116


	2. Ready (A Poem of Five)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 5 (Number Five)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you fit into me  
> like a hook into an eye
> 
> a fish hook  
> an open eye
> 
> -Margaret Atwood, "You Fit Into Me"

Let me do this,  
I say one day at the breakfast table  
No, he answers

But I want to, I say  
He shakes his head and snaps, You're not ready.  
You're wrong.  
Never, he says.

I slam my fists onto the table.  
Yes you are. I'm ready.  
He doesn't bother giving me a response.

Fine.  
He can sit there, reading his newspaper.  
He can tell me no as much as he wants.  
He can tell me I'm not ready.  
I don't care.  
I'm going to do it anyway.

I turn and run.  
He calls out to me,  
Telling me to sit back down.  
I ignore him.  
If he won't listen  
Why should I?

I run through the doorway  
Through blue and grey  
I run until I can't anymore.  
And I realize  
The setting has changed  
Where was once yellow and green  
Is now black and orange.  
I am in a barren wasteland

I muffle a gasp  
This wasn't supposed to happen  
This isn't what I wanted  
I was ready

I turn and run back, but am met with ruins  
He's gone  
They're gone  
It's gone.  
All gone

Why did this happen?  
I was ready

I try to run through blue again  
And again  
And again

Days pass  
The blue is solid  
And I can't run through walls  
I can only sit and try not to cry  
Water is rare

I was ready

Weeks  
Months  
Years

I meet someone  
She's like me, but not.  
She can't run  
But she is here too  
I ask her to come with me  
She does

Two of us now  
But still no way out

I was ready.  
I know I was.

Years  
Decades

My hair grows long and white  
And my skin wrinkles and folds  
My clothing is worn  
And my mind is tired  
I'm tired

I meet a woman  
(I'm found by her)  
She calls herself the Handler,  
And offers me an out  
She offers me a job, and I accept  
Anything is better than staying here  
Alone

I do not expect my job to involve so much death  
Death is not new to me  
I've killed many people  
But this feels different  
These people are innocent  
Innocent people with families and friends  
I miss my family  
I need to get back

Later  
Much later  
I figure it out  
I know now  
All that's left is to find the right time

When I disappear from the past in blue  
I do not expect this  
Why am I small again?  
What happened to my worn body,  
Covered with scars?  
Where is my time-bleached hair?

No matter  
I may have lost all that  
But I've gained back my home  
Even though it's all different

I tell them  
What has happened  
I leave out the parts that matter most  
I can't hurt them  
I've been doing everything on my own for so long  
What difference does a week make?

I compliment my brothers dress  
Thank you, he says, in German.  
I don't know why.

My sister leaves her windows unlocked.  
I tell her she shouldn't  
No matter how high  
No one is safe with unlocked windows

I run  
Run through the city  
Looking for a clue  
How to stop it  
How to save them  
How to save everything

I act like I know how  
But I don't.

(I can finally admit.  
I wasn't ready.

But it's too late)

She screams  
And slashes  
And explodes

Why did my brother do that?  
Why treat his family like he has?  
Idiot.

I don't know if I am much better.

Gunshots  
Bullets  
Tentacles  
Ghosts  
Screaming  
Music  
Violin  
Wide eyes  
Blue  
Green  
Lights  
Colors  
Too loud  
It's too loud

A gunshot too close for comfort  
Panic  
Energy sound light

I shout  
My sister collapses  
And so does the moon

No, I think.  
Nonono

We have to go back.

I grab onto my siblings' hands  
The blue condenses  
And I pull

Back back back  
Too far  
But this time  
I'm ready

Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then the day came,  
> when the risk  
> to remain tight  
> in a bud  
> was more painful  
> than the risk  
> it took  
> to blossom.
> 
> -Anais Nin, "Risk"


	3. Bed Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,  
> Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—  
> While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
> As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  
> “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—  
> Only this and nothing more.”
> 
> -Edgar Allan Poe, "The Raven"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!  
> The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!  
> Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun  
> The frumious Bandersnatch!” 
> 
> -Lewis Carroll, "Jabberwocky"

I wake up early  
As I always do  
I roll over  
My eyes are shut  
I don't want to open them

I roll to the other side  
It's cold  
My hands pull my blanket around my legs  
The ceiling fan whirrs  
If I would get up  
Then I could shut it off

I don't

My body feels heavy  
Like it's sinking into the floor  
Through my mattress  
My limbs lay loose at my sides  
Unmoving

If only I could just get up  
Then I could try to wipe the tired from my eyes  
And stand

I could wash my face  
And brush my teeth  
And get ready

But I don't  
What's the point of getting up?  
Nothing feels right  
As usual

I try to sit up  
As soon as I move  
My head protests  
An aching pain spreads through my skull  
I fall back down

Hours pass  
I do nothing  
I stare at the ceiling  
At my phone  
At the inside of my eyelids  
And I don't get up

My mother calls  
It's time to eat, she says  
I yell back,  
I'm coming! Just give me a minute.

But I don't move

Maybe I'll stay in bed today  
Doing nothing  
Except wearily sighing  
And thinking  
If all the things I could accomplish  
If I just got out of bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a green oak by the sea;  
> There is a golden chain upon the oak:  
> And night and day a wise cat  
> Walks around upon the chain;  
> It goes to the right -- and starts to sing,  
> It goes to the left -- and tells a story.
> 
> (У лукоморья дуб зелёный;  
> Златая цепь на дубе том:  
> И днём и ночью кот учёный  
> Всё ходит по цепи кругом;  
> Идёт направо — песнь заводит,  
> Налево — сказку говорит.)
> 
> -Aleksandr Pushkin (Александр Пушкин), "There Is A Green Oak By The Sea" ("У Лукоморья Дуб Зелёный")


	4. Sandals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will not play at tug o' war.  
> I'd rather play at hug o' war,  
> Where everyone hugs  
> Instead of tugs,  
> Where everyone giggles  
> And rolls on the rug,  
> Where everyone kisses,  
> And everyone grins,  
> And everyone cuddles,  
> And everyone wins
> 
> -Shel Silverstein, "Hug O' War"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I can stop one heart from breaking,  
> I shall not live in vain;  
> If I can ease one life the aching,  
> Or cool one pain,  
> Or help one fainting robin  
> Unto his nest again,  
> I shall not live in vain.
> 
> -Emily Dickinson, "If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking"

I want to wear my sneakers  
It's bad enough that we're leaving the house  
It's bad enough I have to get up at all  
Everything is bad enough  
I want to wear my sneakers  
Because they are comfortable and safe

I walk downstairs, sketchbook in hand  
Take off your socks  
I look up  
Why?  
Take off your socks and put on your sandals  
No  
I don't want to  
I want to wear my sneakers  
Take off your socks

Why? Why do you have the right to decide what I wear?  
It's my body  
My appearance

You already look like a clown  
Take off your socks  
And put on your sandals  
Now

I put them on  
I hate it  
I want to wear my sneakers  
I run back up

On my bed  
Hot tears well up in my eyes  
I just want to wear my sneakers  
Why can't I do that?  
I'm not four years old  
I know what I want to wear  
Why doesn't anybody understand

I look at the sandals on my feet  
The straps itch my bug bites  
I scratch at my foot  
Stupid

Loud voice from below  
Are you done throwing your tantrum?  
We're leaving.  
Get down here.

I just wanted to wear my sneakers  
With my rainbow socks  
And my loose shirt that has pineapples  
And my shorts

Why can't I wear what makes me feel like myself,  
Mom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what my heart is like  
>  Since your love died:  
> It is like a hollow ledge  
> Holding a little pool  
>  Left there by the tide,  
>  A little tepid pool,  
> Drying inward from the edge.
> 
> -Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Ebb"


	5. Shark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold fast to dreams   
> For if dreams die  
> Life is a broken-winged bird  
> That cannot fly.
> 
> Hold fast to dreams  
> For when dreams go  
> Life is a barren field  
> Frozen with snow.
> 
> -Langston Hughes, "Dreams"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are heavy? Sea-sand and sorrow;  
> What are brief? Today and tomorrow;  
> What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth;  
> What are deep? The ocean and truth.
> 
> -Christina Rossetti, "What Are Heavy?"

Slick smooth skin  
Dark grey fin  
Rows of sharp teeth  
Swimming underneath

Under my boat  
Deep down it floats  
Watching me  
Is it on a hunting spree?

The sea creature lurks  
I nervously jerk  
When it swims up to the surface  
Blood coating its face

But it doesn't linger  
And I don't move a finger  
It turns around  
And swims away from the sound  
Of sailors and soldiers  
And people much bolder  
Making acquaintanceship  
One the deck of my ship

That was long ago  
But now I know  
The shark never hurts  
Unless you strike first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,  
> Listen to the DON'TS  
> Listen to the SHOULDN'TS  
> The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S  
> Listen to the NEVER HAVES  
> Then listen close to me-  
> Anything can happen, child,  
> ANYTHING can be
> 
> -Shel Silverstein, "Listen To The MUSTN'TS"


	6. Noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is not blind,  
> but he who did not see your worth.
> 
> -JK Cabresos, "Blind"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imaginary friend,  
> indefinite existence of events,  
> hoping to be reversible.
> 
> -JK Cabresos, "Time"

Jackhammers stabbing into my skull  
Chainsaws roaring  
Gunshots  
Metal hitting metal, each bang driving itself further into my mind  
Explosions  
Carpet installation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with the first showers   
> Comes the kind of sadness  
> Which only half loved lovers   
> Can feel.
> 
> -pragya santani, "Monsoon"
> 
> [theyre putting in new carpets and it's been so loud for the past seven hours. i can barely think.]


	7. My Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some say the world will end in fire,  
> Some say in ice.  
> From what I’ve tasted of desire  
> I hold with those who favor fire.  
> But if it had to perish twice,  
> I think I know enough of hate  
> To say that for destruction ice  
> Is also great  
> And would suffice.
> 
> -Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My candle burns at both ends;  
> It will not last the night;  
> But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—  
> It gives a lovely light!
> 
> -Edna St. Vincent Millay, "First Fig"

I don't think I am a poet  
Or feel as if I can spin intricate patterns from words  
But here I am  
And I'll do my best  
  
I don't think I am a writer  
Or feel like I can weave a web of stories from nothing  
But I'm here  
And I'll do my best  
  
I can't say I think of myself as an artist  
Or that I know how to turn a blank canvas into a picture of wonder  
But I'm sitting here, paintbrush in hand  
And I'll my best  
  
Maybe I'm not a singer  
And I can't shatter crystal hearts with a piercing melody  
But I can hum a tune that makes me smile  
And isn't that enough?  
  
I don't like to say I am a composer  
Or that my fingers can flit across strings and keys, turning emptiness into smears of color  
But I can play a song made up of daffodils and sweet-smelling roses  
And that's good enough for me  
  
Maybe I'm right.  
I'm not a poet, or a singer  
I cannot paint, nor am I good with words and notes  
But who says I have to be?  
I can make people happy  
And that's what matters  
Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of the night that covers me,  
> Black as the pit from pole to pole,  
> I thank whatever gods may be  
> For my unconquerable soul.
> 
> In the fell clutch of circumstance  
> I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
> Under the bludgeonings of chance  
> My head is bloody, but unbowed.
> 
> Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
> Looms but the Horror of the shade,  
> And yet the menace of the years  
> Finds and shall find me unafraid.
> 
> It matters not how strait the gate,  
> How charged with punishments the scroll,  
> I am the master of my fate,  
> I am the captain of my soul.
> 
> -William Ernest Henley, "Invictus"


	8. Spite and I, Me and Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm nobody! Who are you?  
> Are you nobody, too?  
> Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!  
> They'd banish us, you know.
> 
> How dreary to be somebody!  
> How public, like a frog  
> To tell your name the livelong day  
> To an admiring bog!
> 
> -Emily Dickinson, "I'm Nobody! Who Are You?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way a crow  
> Shook down on me  
> The dust of snow  
> From a hemlock tree
> 
> Has given my heart  
> A change of mood  
> And saved some part  
> Of a day I had rued.
> 
> -Robert Frost, "The Dust Of Snow"

If I can't live for myself  
I'll live out of spite  
Waking up every morning thinking  
"I've made it this far. And if you thought I couldn't,  
Get fucked."  
  
If anyone asks me  
"Why are you still going?"  
Then I'll tell them  
That I'm ready to fistfight death  
Or die trying."  
  
I don't owe anybody my happiness  
Somebody might tell me to lighten up  
Or get over it  
Or smile  
"You have such a nice smile,  
Why don't you use it more often?"  
But I don't owe them anything  
The only person I could truly owe anything to  
Is myself  
(And I am not a debt collector)  
  
I think that  
If right now  
I can't achieve happiness  
Anger is fine  
  
Anger is like a fire  
And if I can't be a star  
Being a raging inferno  
Consuming everything in my path  
Sounds just as poetic,  
Doesn't it?  
  
I'm still burning bright  
But in a different way  
  
I can't become a shining star  
(Like everyone says I should be)  
If I don't get the hang of burning first  
Otherwise I might hurt some poor stargazer  
Burn out his retinas,  
And leave him blind  
  
And wouldn't you agree  
That a fire is much smaller  
Than a giant ball of gas  
In the sky?  
It's still dangerous  
But safer  
In comparison  
  
Besides  
It's not like I don't have  
Plenty of ice  
  
If you think  
That I'm being too cold  
When I'm trying to ice down my fire  
Or too volatile  
When I comply  
And allow the fire to melt my ice  
Into water  
  
Why are you talking to me?  
  
I owe you nothing  
If who I am right now  
Doesn't suit you  
Then leave  
The exit's right there  
I don't understand why you keep trying to fix me  
When I'm not broken  
  
If I don't get used to heat right now,  
In small amounts  
Then when I do become a star  
I'll explode  
Cracks will cover my surface  
And I will fall to the ground  
In pieces  
Destroyed  
  
You may dislike me  
Or want me to change  
But unless I want to change for you  
I will not budge  
  
I will be a volcano at sea  
Spitting molten rock  
And you will not be able to stop me  
  
If you don't like me as I am now  
You don't have to stay  
I'm not making you  
I'm not the only person here  
There are plenty others  
Some like me  
And some  
Completely different  
  
Who I am  
Is not your choice to make  
It is mine  
And mine alone  
  
And I choose to be me  
If I am not enough for you  
Then you don't deserve  
To bask in the chilling rain  
Of my presence  
  
And if I am not enough for myself  
I'll keep living  
  
I will rise every morning  
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes  
Listening to the chirping birds  
Thinking of how tangled my life is  
Wondering what I will have for breakfast  
And feeling  
  
I will rise every morning  
And live  
Out of spite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never saw a Purple Cow,  
> I never hope to see one,  
> But I can tell you, anyhow,  
> I’d rather see than be one!
> 
> -Gelett Burgess, "The Purple Cow"


	9. Starstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My love for you is like the raging sea,  
> So powerful and deep it will forever be.  
> Through storm, wind, and heavy rain,  
> It will withstand every pain.  
> Our hearts are so pure and love so sweet.  
> I love you more with every heartbeat!
> 
> -Elaine Chetty, "Love So Amazing"  
> Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/love-so-amazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million stars up in the sky.  
> One shines brighter - I can't deny.  
> A love so precious, a love so true,  
> a love that comes from me to you.  
> The angels sing when you are near.  
> Within your arms I have nothing to fear.  
> You always know just what to say.   
> Just talking to you makes my day.  
> I love you, honey, with all of my heart.  
> Together forever and never to part.
> 
> -Mr. Creeves, "From My Heart"  
> Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/from-my-heart

I do not believe in luck  
Nor do I wish upon the stars at night  
I don't look out and wait for gifts  
To approach me from the morning light  
  
I do not believe in hell or heaven  
And I could never be a saint  
But meeting you, my darling  
Might as well have been fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
> Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
> Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
> And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:  
> Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
> And often is his gold complexion dimmed,  
> And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
> By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed:  
> But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
> Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,  
> Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,  
> When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,  
> So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,  
> So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
> 
> -William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18


	10. Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,  
> Enwrought with golden and silver light,  
> The blue and the dim and the dark cloths  
> Of night and light and the half-light,  
> I would spread the cloths under your feet:  
> But I, being poor, have only my dreams;  
> I have spread my dreams under your feet;  
> Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
> 
> -William Butler Yeats, "He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a place where the sidewalk ends  
> And before the street begins,  
> And there the grass grows soft and white,  
> And there the sun burns crimson bright,  
> And there the moon-bird rests from his flight  
> To cool in the peppermint wind.
> 
> -Shel Silverstein, "Where the Sidewalk Ends"

i can't focus  
why can't i focus  
my brain is scattered  
there's too much  
too little  
i can't think  
i try to focus on one thing  
but my eyes droop and drift to something else  
another plain task that i won't be able to complete  
my eyes hurt  
my brain hurts  
my mind hurts  
are those words synonyms?  
or do they mean different things?  
can they be interpreted as one being inside the other?  
i don't know  
i don't know!  
it's all too blurry  
too much  
is something wrong with me?  
is this an illness?  
i  
no   
it can't be  
i'm not diagnosed  
i'm just messed up  
i don't know  
i don't know anymore  
my skin feels too tight  
and my lungs feel too big  
why don't i know  
i'm supposed to know  
but i don't know!  
i'm supposed to be reading! writing! working!  
but i don't   
know!  
why?  
why?  
why  
why don't i know  
maybe i should invest in glasses  
so my eyes can focus on something again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tree has entered my hands,   
> The sap has ascended my arms,   
> The tree has grown in my breast-   
> Downward,   
> The branches grow out of me, like arms. 
> 
> Tree you are,   
> Moss you are,   
> You are violets with wind above them.   
> A child - so high - you are,   
> And all this is folly to the world.
> 
> -Ezra Pound, "A Girl"


	11. All It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are a dreamer, come in,  
> If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,  
> A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer…  
> If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire  
> For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.  
> Come in!  
> Come in!
> 
> -Shel Silverstein, "Invitation"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual author's note instead of a poem this time: This is me trying to write a short poem about Klaus and Dave, from Klaus's perspective. Second-Person.

All it takes is a kiss

A press of his lips against yours

A brief but firm contact 

All it takes is a kiss

For you to start falling

All it takes is a gesture

An outstretched hand

With fingers waiting for you to slip yours between them

All it takes is a gesture

For you to fall deeper into him

All it takes are three words

A breathy exhale

“I love you.”

All it takes are three words

For you to say them back

All it takes is a war

A raging war filled with gunfire and death

With bullet wounds and blood

All it takes is a war

For him to be ripped away from you

All it takes is the click of latches

A black briefcase opening

A bright flash of blue light

All it takes is the click of latches

For you to come right back to where you started

All it takes is falling in love

Wondrous love filled with hope and joy

And pain and tears

All it takes is falling in love

For you to be left bare and exposed,

Heartbroken,

On the street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She had blue skin.  
> And so did he.  
> He kept it hid  
> And so did she.  
> They searched for blue  
> Their whole life through,  
> Then passed right by—  
> And never knew.
> 
> -Shel Silverstein, "Masks"


	12. Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I ASKED the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell  
> me what is happiness.
> 
> And I went to famous executives who boss the work of  
> thousands of men.
> 
> -Carl Sandburg, "Happiness"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i shall imagine life
> 
> is not worth dying if  
> (and when)roses complain  
> their beauties are in vain
> 
> but though mankind persuades  
> itself that every weed’s  
> a rose roses(you feel  
> certain)will only smile
> 
> -Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings, "i shall imagine life"

oh how i wish i did not sweat  
how wonderful it would be if the slick dampness would not coat my skin  
i lament the way my arms slide against my torso; wet and uncomfortable

wouldn't it be nice  
if i could stop myself from overheating  
without the smelly water dripping from my hair?

the feeling of how sweaty skin slips against itself  
is not one made for me  
i revel in the dry smoothness of my body after i shower and rub myself dry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold fast to dreams  
> For if dreams die  
> Life is a broken-winged bird  
> That cannot fly.  
> Hold fast to dreams  
> For when dreams go  
> Life is a barren field  
> Frozen with snow.
> 
> -Langston Hughes, "Dreams"


	13. Rope Around My Neck, Hand Around My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No poems in the notes today because I'm on mobile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diedora. That's what this is. It's diedora and I regret nothing.

You have always been

At the end of your rope

The thick and sturdy twine

Wrapped around your neck

Choking you slowly.

You do not need to breathe

So that is not why you fear the rope

You fear it

Because it pulls you farther and farther away from reality

Leading you by the neck

Into blinding anger,

Fury.

Since you were small

And weak,

A child,

The rope has been pulling

You have always been at the end

And you have always been angry

Full of molten hate

And resentment.

But sometimes

She places her firm but gentle hand

On the knot

Where the rope meets your skin

She smiles

And for a moment

For just a moment

You feel the tightness of the rope fade.

You kiss her

And she kisses you back

Her hands painting murals onto your skin

Her fingers writing scriptures across your back.

"Eudora," you breathe

And she smiles,

Kissing you once more

But that time has long since passed

Tender touches and loving kisses

Left behind

To stay trapped in your past forever.

Now you play a game

You talk to her

Run into her

Mess with her work

And she rolls her eyes,

Annoyed.

You smirk

And she pushes you away

And for a breif second as her hands brush your skin

The rope loosens

Only to come back tighter as she locks handcuffs

Around your wrists.

You wish

That the rope wasn't there

But because of the mosnters

Horrid creatures living inside your head

In your memories and in your childhood

The rope stays,

Tight as ever.

She says she's going to save him

Your brother.

But when you arrive

She's on the floor

Red blood pooling around her body

You fall

To you knees,

Hands reaching out to touch her face,

Cold and dead.

You cry

Whispering to her

That you should have been there

That you have to go

She's left alone

In the hotel bedroom with a bullet wound in her chest

And the rope around your neck

Squeezes tighter

And pulls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should start another fic for my tua related poems specifically, because I tend to write a lot of those. Please tell me if that would be something you'd like me to do.


	14. Chapter 14

I think the air is filled with wishes  
ones that drifted up from here  
from us pitiful creatures longing for better  
longing for things our hearts desire  
and the sky is filled with them  
polluted until it's unrecognizable  
filled with hopes and dreams and sparks  
and scraps of desires left unsaid  
it's filled with wishes we let go of  
and we just keep making more

**Author's Note:**

> there will be people who cannot handle your grace, your beauty, your wisdom, your heart;  
> mostly because they can’t handle their own. but you will never be  
> and have never been  
> “too much.”
> 
> -Tyler Ford, "Too Much"


End file.
